


dawn

by inf1nitum



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Character Death, F/F, F/M, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26888614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inf1nitum/pseuds/inf1nitum
Summary: as a child, Lihai had been found wandering in the woods in the worst winter of the last century, with no memories of her own, but with dreams made of another life in a completely different world.  {zukoxoc} {atla}
Relationships: Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	dawn

_"Listen,_ _if stars are lit_

_it means – there is someone who needs it._

_It means – someone wants them to be,_

_that someone deems those specks of spit_

_**magnificent** "_

_Listen - Vladimir Mayakovsy_

_x_

THE FIRST TIME THAT SHE WAKE UP, the world was a mass of light and darkness, dancing around her eyelids with intelligible delicacy. Like smoke snakes, darkness and light curled around each other endlessly, ending maybe in the other side of the world; and tainting everything with smoke and fear.

The oldest battle in the universe, she thought, the one that was the beginning and the end of everything – what a beautiful thing to see. How poetic that the existence itself would cease to exist in the same way it was born?

She remembered she liked poetics. Dancing words in pale paper, describing feelings and stories, marking her skin with carefree whispers. A long time ago, she supposed, someone should've written her poetics, maybe even songs – and those she should know by heart.

But her heart was broken.

She could feel it. The empty space where it was, once, a beating, alive heart, dripping in crimson blood and life itself, sending oxygen to her limbs and brain, making her think, and feel, and love. Once, but no more.

Just an empty space flooding with something akin to fear – can one feel with a heart?

 _Poetics,_ _dearest._

She gulped in air – does she had lungs or are those broken too? – and her mind fogged a little. It hurt, breathing, a simple and meaningful task – what was life without breathing? What was life if not lungs full of air, a bombing heart and veins full of blood, raging wars and love-made beds?

_Don't close your eyes, dearest._

She blinked. One, two times. Her eyes darted around the smoke snakes, curling around each other more like lovers than enemies – and she stood, in trembling limbs and weak knees.

_Come back to my, darling, please. I beg you, come back to home._

Her hands had been scrapped, red blood flouring freely by then. Her heart was still broken, somehow, and her chest hurt _so much –_ and her eyes (does those are still working? Or were she dreaming, all over again?) averted to the big hole in her shirt, close to her breasts, where more blood was drawing a intricated pattern of stark red against white.

Slowly, she tried to stop it – somehow, she knew she had to _stop it, stop, stop_ – but why? She was still alive. Still standing, against all the odds – even with a broken heart, shot against her ribcages.

The smoke snakes stopped. For a second, she thought she was dead – what a strange way to die, in smoke and ashes, dreaming of snakes and battles, drawing words in forgotten stars. _Don't close your eyes, dearest._

The light came from nothing, parting away the darkness with claw and tooths, and the warmth bathed her in less than a second. She could remember, in the back of her mind, of a paradise made of sand and the bright sun of August, burning her skin in a marvellous way that made she think of a home where she no more belonged.

Ghosts don't belong amongst the living ones, and neither should she grasp in things that are already lost. Her lungs failed her for a moment, when the light became _too much,_ and the darkness tried to fight it – her skin burned, and her eyes start to hurt. Wasn't dying the end of the pain?

_Aurora, dearest, its time to wake up._

She opened her eyes, and somewhere, faraway from where a little child had been found, a star slowly died.

**X**

THE SECOND TIME SHE WOKE UP, the world was a fog of stark white, small snowflakes dancing against her skin and making her shiver. _You need to keep fighting, dearest,_ someone whispered against her, and she could swear she wasn't alone. Scared, she jumped to her feet, only to find herself shivering even more – her small body, a child's body, was only dressed up in a ratted white cotton dress, more of a nightdress than anything else, and her head was heavy.

A pale silver diadem rested against her temples, with an intricade design that made it look like little vines in her skin, but she could remember it. It belonged in her as much as she knew the words in her mind, of a lost battle and a forgotten story.

She flicked one of her small hands, and a small flame was born out of nothing, melting the snow around her wrist. It danced in orange and red tones, and for a second, she was enchanted by the patterns it drawn against her – a second skin more natural than anything else.

The warmth of her fire fulfilled her small body, and, even if she knew she was supposed to be scared, she wasn't; there was no reason to be afraid, not where was fire to guide her, with stars watching over her small form.

_Remember the constellations.  
You shall burn as bright as then._

**BOOK ONE: THE DAWN**


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